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gfbs-the-decaying · 7 hours
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Info .4) REGION MAP
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-> Cities, towns, villages, rivers and most prominent and well known mountain peaks and hills.
"Region" stands for the general area we will see and hear of in the comic, it is not a definition for a "country" or "province/state" of any kind.
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-> Region areas, some are named after certain cats and act under a single government, meanwhile some are simply names that act as a geographical descriptor (woodlands, tundra, grasslands)
After the infection originated in the city of Ardham, it spread along the rivers during the first wave of infection. After a contaminated brought it up to Houlston, it caused a mass outbreak and spread down stream into smaller towns. Eventually it was caught near the coastline, and spread throughout there until most towns in the region were abandoned. Some towns remain active, such as Mistvale which locked itself away from the mainland. Others transformed into large scale shelters and facilities, the most well known being H.R.A.R.S which is the only shelter which will accept stage 1 cats in hopes of saving them before they turn, and Project Seawater which aims to find a fast and efficient way of filtering the oceans water due to the risk in drinking freshwater on land.
Protagonists are (as of chapter 1) situated at Mount Johnson.
Biomes and Climate
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Climate is determined based off the Köppen climate classification system. Biomes and environment are generally based off Canada (most precisely B.C.), around 30-40° from the pole.
More information to come on locations soon! But god am I happy to finally share this with everyone! If you have any thoughts or questions on any locations or environments I'd love to see them! I'm very passionate about this region and try to think of some lore for every little town and location! So feel free to reblog or reply! Anon questions will open soon!
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ao3-crack · 1 year
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(x)
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nekogaaaaaaa · 7 months
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So, I read this charlastor fic ("Just Roll With It") that got me chokehold
This masterpiece created by @hazbinstohell! very recommended if you want to read fun and chaos charlastor fic
And I found this reference pose picture so I need to draw them
The original pic under the cut
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turtleplushi · 1 month
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I haven't seen anybody post the full Riddle Chain yet (including Silas Birchtree) so here you go :)
I didn't find any of these codes myself by the way! I'm not sure who to credit for the rest of them, but I did get the Silas Birchtree code from @dismissivedestroyer (sorry for tagging you ^_^" if you don't want to be tagged let me know and i can edit the post). You can also get the answer using the code "STOD EHT TCENNOC"
(SPOILERS BELOW)
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RIDDLE (would you like to play a game) > YES (what's Mcgucket's favorite soda?) > MOUNTAIN DONT (what's a medieval homonym?) > LYRE LIAR (the 20th ingredient of Anti-Cipherzing Tonic?) > HAROLDS RAMBLINGS (how is clown repellant made?) > UNION MADE (Bill's govt file number?) > 29121239168518 (who comes from Zimtrez 5?) > GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK (what's on Bill's flag?) > 3466554 (what leaves a thin line in the snow?) > TINSEL SNAKE (the 6th option on Bill's editing software?) > TORTURE MENTALLY (name an unpronouncable wizard) > XGQRTHX (where do Tri Angels come from?) > 333SUNDAPPLELANECOZYCREEKIL6071494611 (Bill Cipher's Lawyer?) > CAESARATBASHVIGNERE [or] MULTI LEVEL MARK (who defeated Silas Birchtree--?) > EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS (you've earned a treat! enter 'DISPENSE MY TREAT' to download) > DISPENSE MY TREAT
The 'treat' you get is under the cut
"BILL FILES DO NOT OPEN"
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tagidearte · 17 days
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Who?
(Can't do digital art again yet. Traditional has been fun, though. Click for not blurry quality)
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snaileer · 9 months
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My Best Friend Is A Dead Teenage Robot
Tony is annoyed to say that he didn’t even know about the kid until his presence was impossible to ignore.
It comes in the most startling of ways.
Specifically, by FRIDAY ignoring his question.
“Friday?” Tony says again to the open air, still devoid of the music he’d asked for.
“I apologize sir, I seem to be on a bit of a delay-“ there’s a pause as her voice sounds notably distracted, “The majority of my processing power is being used to maintain a firewall. There is a disturbance on level 23, sir.”
Alarms blare in the back of Tony’s mind as he immediately turns back out of his lab. What disturbance could take up the majority of Friday’s processing power?
She ran the tower for Pete’s sake!
Needless to say, it is not what he is expecting when the elevator doors open to reveal one of his R&D labs being torn apart by the new bionic herding bots and a young man furiously coding in the middle of the room with an armed robot not unlike Dum-E defending him with a soup thermos.
“It seems you have found the source of the disturbance, Sir.”
The man stuck in the middle of it turns to Friday’s voice, spotting Tony standing with one foot out of the elevator.
His dark skin goes impressively pale.
“Dannyyy!!! If you’re gonna stop Technus, do it now!!” He yells, slamming enter on his keyboard before kicking away a robot dog getting close to him.
“On it.” A voice speaks. And the one armed bot from before zooms over to hold down the dogbot, letting the man plug something in and just as quickly yank it out.
Too fast for Tony to understand, the thermos is uncapped and what he now realizes is a USB drive, is dropped in.
The movement of the room drops with a clatter.
“Hey…. Dr.Stark…” the man says,
Tony blinks.
He looks at the kid. Then at the cluster of engineers trembling against the wall.
Then at the ceiling. There’s a hole.
Plaster rains down, drawing his eyes to the one armed robot.
It waves cheerfully.
“Put your fricking arm down Danny!” The man whispers forcefully.
The robot arm lowers.
He’s standing in the middle of the wreckage in front of Tony, as if awaiting judgment. Slowly, the young man lifts his own arm to a half wave, “Please don’t fire me for this.”
Tony blinks again-
“Why do you get to wave and I don’t!?” A voice says, almost whining.
The young man kicks the robot next to him. It silences.
Tony smiles, “What’s your name kid?”
He hesitates, “.. Tucker.” There’s a pause, “.. uh, Dr. Stark, sir.”
Tony smiles again, the one that Pepper says means PR trouble, “Please kid, call me Tony. Anybody that can make an AI like mine deserves to call me Tony.”
Tucker freezes at being obviously caught, “A what?”
His AI’s voice also answers damningly, “A what?”
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fertaine · 8 months
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my autism cant live without him
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nimscrem · 2 months
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Sunset for two
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percki · 5 months
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on my knees
tags: 18+, mature content, MDNI, Gale x reader, f!Tav, 2nd person pronouns, act 3, semi-public sex, porn w/o plot, lap dance, explicit consent, bondage, restraints, dom/sub, switch Gale, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lap sex, hand jobs, overstimulation, orgasm denial, praise kink
ao3 link
“Urgh.” Rolan stands up, wiping a smear of Lorroakan’s blood off the sleeve of his robes. “Your aasimar friend is… violent.”
“I’m so sorry for the mess, Rolan. We can clean everything up –” You glance around the upper level of the tower, at the holy fire, congealed mud, pasty mixture of water and ash, and a fair amount of blood. At the wizard’s broken body, his face swollen with bruises, his mouth agape, sprawled at the foot of his throne of books. “– Um, but it might take a while.”
Rolan waves one long-nailed hand in your direction, his discolored face grateful – if not a bit exasperated. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. You have already done so much for me – consider my debt forgiven, and all will be well.” You smile at that, watching the tiefling wizard grunt with exertion as he hauls Lorroakan’s body towards the portal. “And, erm – help yourself to any treasures you come across, of course. I’ll be… downstairs…” He pushes the corpse through the shimmering portal, and sends you one last earnest, sharp-toothed smile over his shoulder. “...Burying a body.”
With that, Rolan pushes up the sleeves of his robes (sorcerer’s robes, trimmed in silver, unbefitting for a wizard, but they suit him well nonetheless) and steps through the portal, no doubt bracing himself to break the news to his new employees. ‘Hey, so remember those adventurers that just came in? They killed Lorroakan, violently, and I’m your boss now. Surprise!’ You’re sure the staff at Sorcerous Sundries have endured worse surprises; working for Lorroakan sounds akin to an eternity of torture in the Hells.
Aylin sheathes her sword and crosses over to you, removing her helmet. Her ash-blonde hair spills over her shoulders, and her gold-streaked face glistens with blood and sweat. “I shall be at your camp, if you have need of me,” she declares, and inclines her head in gratitude. “You fought well – as you have before. I remain thankful for your assistance.” Less wordy than usual – Lorroakan’s death must be weighing on her. You don’t blame her.
“Thank you, Dame Aylin,” you say, and bow in respect. She smiles at that, silver eyes gleaming.
“Ooh, wait!” Karlach runs up to you, her arms full of wine bottles – no doubt pilfered from Lorroakan’s hidden stash. The woman has a nose for alcohol – she could find a bottle of Baldur’s Grape blindfolded, disoriented, in the middle of a rainstorm. Shadowheart is close behind, a new cloak slung over her shoulders and a fair amount of gold filling her pockets. “We’ll probably go back to camp, too – Fringe and I have to try all this wine.”
“To make sure it isn’t poisoned,” Shadowheart adds, green eyes twinkling with humor. “You can handle yourselves without us, can’t you?”
You grin. “Save a bottle of Mermaid Whiskey for me.”
“Blech. You can have it all.” Karlach sticks out her split tongue, her smile wide. “See ya!” She bolts through the portal head-first: dangerous, with the amount of alcohol in her arms and the fiery infernal engine in her chest. You hear a distant crash, and wince.
Shadowheart follows close behind, calling, “Save the Tyche Pink!”
You hear the rush of wings and look over – Aylin is gone, too, a flash of silver in the clear blue sky. You watch her fly, the wind buffeting her white wings – deva-like, altogether unnatural, inhuman, beautiful in an untouchable, deadly, frightening way – as she soars. The sunlight seems to collect around her, like a remnant of her celestial mother’s power lingers, still, even after the heat and rage of battle is done.
“And then there were two.”
Gale’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up, meeting his eyes. Dark brown, deep, gentle, shining with a light all too familiar. He’s standing by the throne of books, his right hand resting on a copy of Folktales of Faerún: The Angelic Aasimar. 
You kneel over the ashes of the water myrmidon, sifting through the remains for treasure. Nothing. “I suppose Rolan will take a while…” You look around the tower once more, keen eyes picking out chests, display cases, bookshelves – anything that could hide a nice new set of robes for Gale, or a dagger for Astarion, or perhaps some armor for Wyll… “Will you cast Feather Fall? I want to look on the lower levels…” You trail off, reading something in Gale’s eyes. His fingers flex on the spine of the book, his shoulders thrown back, his lilac robes fitting his form well. Is he… posing? You smile and straighten, dusting ash off your sleeves, and move to his side, twining your left arm with his right, leaning comfortably against his side. “The Annals are in the vaults,” you say, knowing his primary objective here, halfheartedly attempting to lift his spirits. Thoughts of the Crown are dangerous – you have seen how easily the lure of power can corrupt, a thousand times (with Kagha in the Emerald Grove, with Minthara at the goblin camp, with Ketheric and Gortash and now Lorroakan). But despite your reservations, you know his ambition fuels him, that it drives his fire, that thoughts of greatness and respect do raise his spirits. “We could go down ourselves…”
Gale turns into you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his beard scratching at your neck. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, and sighs deeply, inhaling your scent – blood and smoke and sweat, and the faintest hints of his cologne lingering on your skin. “I… Not yet,” he says vaguely, and kisses your neck again, deeper this time. Your breath hitches as he trails long, searing kisses up your neck, along the line of your jaw, leading up to your lips.
“Gale…” You whisper, voice low. “I –” He nips at your bottom lip, smiling against your chin, and you can feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he says devilishly, oak eyes sparkling, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “I can’t believe…” He blinks, as if waking from a dream, and cradles your jaw with his hand, straightening to his full height.
You kiss him, this time, tasting blood on his lips, and you stop, examining his face carefully. A bruise is forming at the bridge of his nose, blood tracing a path down the apex of his lips to his chin. You frown, brow creasing in worry. “You’re hurt.”
“Hm?” Gale touches his face gingerly, delicate, careful fingers prodding the quickly-purpling skin. “Oh. Yes. That. It’s quite alright –”
“It’s not alright,” you reply. “Let me heal you.” You take his shoulders in your hands and guide him into a seated position on Lorroakan’s throne, his back reclined against a collection of Ramazith’s annotated tomes. You kneel before him, positioning yourself between his legs, and summon a simple healing incantation, your hand hovering over his nose, the blue glow of the spell reflected in his eyes. “Te curo,” you murmur, and watch as his skin knits itself together, blood drying, swelling fading, the bruise vanishing beneath your fingers. “Better?”
“Better,” he admits, and looks at you with intent in his eyes, his gaze dark and focused on your features. “My love,” he starts, then hesitates. His face turns a delicious shade of pink.
“Yes?” You lean forward, hanging onto his words. He adjusts his legs, his thighs bracketing your shoulders, and you feel the slightest thrill at your compromising position, you in your armor and him in his robes, you kneeling before him like a supplicant at an altar.
“Rolan may not return for some time,” Gale says. “We could…” He stops again, biting his lip.
You guess his meaning immediately – your thoughts are remarkably in-tune. You can’t deny that you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t wished for… Well. For Gale. Your peaceful nights since arriving in the Lower City have been few and far between, interrupted as they are: by vampires, by nightmares, by Orin’s ministrations. It’s been some time since you and Gale had time to yourselves.
And now, it seems, you have all the time in the world.
“Do you want to?” You question, and his eyes darken, his pupils expanding infinitesimally. You lean forward, cupping his cock with your hand, and smile to feel him already half-hard beneath your touch.
“I – yes,” he breathes, and raises his hand to cast Mage Hand, the incantation on his lips, when you catch him by the wrist, holding him still.
“No magic,” you say breathlessly, and straighten back up to your full height, smiling down at him. “As mortals do, remember?”
Gale watches you intently as you undo the first few buckles of your armor, leather slipping between your fingers. He sits up, reaching out his hands to help –
And you push him back.
“Don’t move,” you warn him, and plant one hand securely on his chest, holding him in place, as you draw a piece of silken fabric out of your pack. You hold it up for him to see, and upon realizing your intention, his eyes widen, pupils expanding impossibly wide. “Do you want this?” You ask, and he confirms with a nod of his head. You narrow your eyes and lean in, your face centimeters away from his, your breath ghosting on his lips. “Say it, please, love.”
He swallows thickly, eyes locked on yours, and says, his voice a rumble in his chest, “I want you to tie me up.”
You smile, and reward him with a bruising, biting kiss. “Good boy,” you murmur, and relish the way his face reddens, his jaw going slightly slack at the praise. “Lean forward for me?” He acquiesces, already holding his hands behind his back, and you climb up into his lap to twine the silk around his wrists, your touch featherlight and gentle. You test the knot, and smile. Not too tight – but he certainly won’t get any ideas about spellcasting. “Does that feel okay?”
“Yes,” he says into your shoulder, his voice muffled by the layers of your armor. You stand back up and step completely out of your clothes, metal buckles and buttons clinking as your many layers fall to the floor, and then you stand before Gale in your undergarments, your skin rising with goosebumps from the cool air, his eyes roving a path up and down your figure.
You feel a little warm from the intensity of his gaze, but you steel your nerves and continue. You reach out with your senses, using the knowledge of the Weave that Gale taught you of so long ago, and you can feel a soft tinkling at the edge of your perception, the distant sound of music, and you pull it towards you. In one of the pleasure dens far below, a slow, sensual number starts up, and you filter the sound through the available space, filling the tower with music.
Gale’s lips part as he realizes your plan. “Love,” he starts, “I haven’t –”
You feel a twinge of self-doubt, standing there near-nude before a man who is completely clothed. You have no experience with this whatsoever – apart from what you have read and seen – and you’re not sure that Gale loves you enough to forgive you if you make a total ass of yourself. “This is okay, right?” You rush to ask, holding your hands out for his before realizing that he’s still tied. You tuck them behind your back, straightening your posture. “Um – I know this is probably unusual, but, you know, in the Quarta Sune –”
Gale grins, his dimples making a rare appearance, and the sight of it pulls at your heartstrings. “You are perfect,” he promises, lifting his dark eyes up to your face. “This is perfect. Please, keep going.”
The slight rasp of his voice goes straight to your core, and you step forward before you’re entirely conscious of your movements, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He leans into you with a groan, and you can feel his shoulders move, his hands resisting the bindings, and you pull back. “No touching,” you say softly, “right? This is about you.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, his expression adorably resentful, and you laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose.
“Later,” you promise, and with that, you stand up, and turn away from him, facing the windows, the setting sun illuminating your skin. The music restarts, strings amping up, and you sway your hips to the tune, letting instinct take over. One, two, three, you breathe, feeling the rhythm run through you, and as the music crescendos, you drop down onto Gale’s lap, your ass just brushing over his thighs, hoping your undulating body looks sensual rather than spasmodic, and your efforts are rewarded with a delicious, blinding groan from behind you. You turn back around to face him – one, two, three – and lean in close, your scent intoxicating, his body warming your skin, and bracket his legs with your knees, one hand carding through his hair and the other slowly unbuttoning his robes, your knuckles barely brushing the velvet-soft hair on his chest. You slide your hands down the planes of his torso, and then, just as he’s leaning forward, again, anticipating your lips on his –
You step back again, turning, lifting your hands over your head and letting your hair down, smiling to yourself as you peek over your shoulder at his exasperated face. One, two, three. You let your ass ghost over his lap again, closer this time, holding there for a few moments longer than he considers tolerable, and just as his patience goes and his hips buck, you return to your starting position, looking down at him chidingly.
“Please,” he whispers, and you raise your brows, your hands going to the clasp of your bra. He watches, rapt, as you slide the fabric off your breasts and let it fall to the ground atop your discarded armor, your nipples peaking in the cool air. You repeat the motion with your panties, and you’re sure Gale catches sight of the soaked fabric as you toss it aside: his face turns a flattering shade of crimson, his arms straining against his silken ropes.
“How can I deny you?” You say, and with smooth, uninterrupted movements, you slide onto his lap, rocking your hips back and forth, tantalizingly slow, atop him. His robes slip open completely, and you can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his undergarments, barely brushing against the skin of your thighs. Your hands roam along the skin of his chest, thumbs swirling careful circles in the dips of his collarbone and shoulders, your palms warm against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praise him, and lean forward to kiss along the line of his clavicle, then slowly up his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, tasting his sandalwood cologne, his soapy shaving cream, the sweat and salt lingering there, your tongue pulsing against his jaw. “So good for me,” you continue, running your hands through his hair, “you’re perfect, Gale.”
And then, surprising him, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees, slotting your body perfectly in between his legs, and in one swift motion, you free his aching cock from his undergarments and lean forward once more, fitting your lips around the head.
“O-oh,” he moans, straining to keep still as you take him deeper, your hands tracing patterns on the skin of his thighs, reaching up to his hips, your nails scratching lightly, and then, as you adjust yourself and push him back so as to get more leverage, you wrap one hand around his shaft and devote the other one to palm gently at his balls, still a touch too gentle. “Mmm – more,” he sighs, and you obey, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and then fitting it back in your mouth, deep enough to brush the back of your throat, pre-cum salty on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, looking up at him through lowered lashes, and his mouth falls open, releasing the most pleasurable moans and groans, sighs and mewls slipping between his lips, chanted noises that may be words – you catch the sound of your name, and please, and yes, in the chorus of sounds that escape his chest, rising and falling in octave with every swipe of your tongue and bob of your head. “P-please,” he says again, “please, let me –”
You guess his meaning, and reach behind him; the movement sending his cock to the very back of your throat, and his back arches in pleasure; and pull the strings of his bindings, untying his hands. The moment he’s free, he takes your head in his hands, cradling your jaw, and lets his fingers twine in the strands of your hair as you suck with renewed eagerness, sliding back nearly completely only to take him in fully again, the feel of his cock in your mouth dizzying, intoxicating, sending white-hot shivers through your body –
You glance down, and through the haze of pleasure, through the shadows of sunset, through the sweat and slick on your body, you see a flash of blue cupping your cunt, and you can suddenly feel the gentle, not-quite-there brush of the Mage Hand’s fingers against your clit. You war between pleasure and indignation for a moment – and indignation wins. You pull back, Gale’s weeping cock inches away from your mouth but still suspended in midair, and he huffs, putting his hands over his eyes, his pleasure cut short just on the path to climax. “Why did you –”
“No magic,” you repeat, and you can feel the Mage Hand dissolve. Gale peeks out from through his fingers, caught, and not the least bit ashamed. “Do I need to tie you up again? Completely, this time?”
“I –” His cock twitches, beads of precum leaking from the tip, stunning the both of you into silence.
You let a devilish grin slide across your face. “Oh. You want me to tie you up, love? Top to tip, completely trussed up for me?” You pull away from him and reach in your pack for more ribbon. “Red or purple, my sweet?”
Gale manages an arrogant smile, his face still flushed red. “Purple, of course.”
“Good choice,” you grin, and stand, running the ribbons through your hands reverently. “This will only take a minute,” you promise. “Why don’t you take those bothersome clothes off before I get started?”
He does, and you let your eyes run over his figure appreciatively for a minute before going to work. Hands on the ‘arms’ of the throne, the ribbon secured around a stack of encyclopedias. His legs against the respective ‘legs’ of the throne, straining slightly against his bonds. You stand before him, and he angles his hips up slightly, his eyes pleading.
“So cooperative,” you murmur, running your hands gently up his thighs. “So patient. So good.” You lift your hand to your mouth and spit on your fingers, holding eye contact, and he breathes shakily as you wrap your hand around his cock, leaning forward, mouthing kisses along his neck and collarbone. You start slowly, tantalizingly, pumping your hand along his length with a careful, measured speed that makes Gale’s breath hitch in his throat.
“Please – more,” he moans, his lips chasing yours. “Faster.”
You acquiesce, moving quicker, twisting your wrist the way you know that he likes. His breaths come faster, too, a mindless stream of yes and please and more coupled with your name falling from his mouth. You kiss him with bruising intensity, feeling his cock twitch in your fingers, his body straining against his bonds.
He comes with a muffled yell, his eyes rolling completely back in his head, and you kiss him fiercely as his come paints your stomach and thighs where you sit atop him. “Please – gods – please, untie me, let me –”
You smile against his lips and loosen the ribbons, yelping when his arms encircle you with surprising strength, lifting you up by your thighs and laying you out on the tile floor of the tower, the ground cold on your skin, your head canted back as Gale trails kisses down your thighs. “Ah – Gale,” you sigh as his fingers whisper up the inside of your legs, your skin rising with goosebumps. “I can’t –” You try to lift your head, to see where he is and what he’s doing, but your neck won’t cooperate. “What –”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale murmurs into your thigh, his hand lifting your leg to his lips, his beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “There’s only so long I can go without magic, my love. I thought –” Here, his tongue slides up to your cunt, tracing around your lips gently, and you moan, your boneless body arching in pleasure. “I thought you might enjoy feeling how I felt. Constrained. At my mercy.” His tongue winds a circle around your clit, and your breaths come faster, your thighs shaking madly. “Do you?”
“Do I – ah – what?”
“Enjoy it,” Gale says into your cunt, and the vibration makes you shudder.
“I – yes, I – please, I want to touch you, I want to –”
“Mmm,” Gale hums, his tongue working careful, restrained circles around your clit, dipping down to taste your slick. “Not yet.”
It’s been less than two minutes, and you’re already shaking, riding high, your eyes unfocused, as Gale takes you apart with his tongue. The painted constellations of the ceiling dance in and out of focus, and your moans echo around the circular tower, a mix of yes and please and Gale falling from your mouth, a reminder of the way you coaxed Gale’s orgasm from him with delicate fingers not five minutes before. “Gale, I – oh, gods, I can’t – please, I want to see you, I –”
The spell breaks, and you lift your head to see Gale’s face completely buried in your cunt, his sweaty hair spread out on your thighs, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and the image is enough to send you over the edge, a scream in your throat, your legs shaking wildly as you come, Gale’s tongue still working at you gently, until the sensation is too much and you kick him softly, signaling get off me, because your vocal cords aren’t working at the moment.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and crawls up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and heady. “But we should probably go before Rolan comes back. I suspect we won’t have an opportunity to take advantage of his hospitality again.”
“Gale…” You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, your eyes fluttering shut. “You might have to Dimension Door us out of here. I don’t think my legs will move.”
“I’ll carry you,” he smiles, and helping you stand, he laces his robes back up and aids you in buckling your armor. “Now come. There’s a bath at the Elfsong that’s calling my name.”
You sigh softly, leaning your head into his shoulder, and watch dreamily as he conjures the portal. “Wait – what about the Annals?”
“Oh.” Gale looks down at the lower levels of the tower. “I suppose we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looks almost downcast, but then the expression fades, and he’s just Gale again, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”
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greensagephase · 8 days
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reader is better than me cause if i saw this man…? if i was roommates with THIS man?? i think i would genuinely crash out everyday trying not to jump on him. LOOOOOOOKKKKKK. 😫😫😫
art by andalusia_lu on instagram!!
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@zoopzaper !!! Pookie, I'm so happy to see you're more active around here!! 🥹
Omg, I'm looking respectfully, I swear!! 👀 The happy trail- the sweat - the face expression - Dios mio... I'm okay (not, currently clawing at the walls)!!😳
It's funny you say this about reader because later on in the fic, dulzura is going to - [gunshots]. Miguel is going to be working out shirtless and -[gunshots]. The hallway suddenly feels too narrow and his scent is - [gunshots]...
I'm telling you now, I have plans that I cannot share with you right now because the haters will sabotage me, but I got some stuff in the works! 😌
Thank you for the ask, pookie!! I hope you're having a lovely weekend!!!
Alondra❤️
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ritelli-main · 5 months
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------------------------- /╲/\╭ºoꍘoº╮/\╱\----------------------------
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purpleleafsyt · 6 months
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Figured I should post these here too! These are pieces for a daily account I'm a part of over on Twitter and all three have finally posted :]
All done in MS Paint, btw
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i know joe is a (Legally Distinct From The Muppets™️) felted marionette-and-hand puppet this season but i really like to image him as a sock juppet for the sake of my own personal amusement
when i was a kid i would make one of my dolls these dresses that were socks with holes cut in them for her arms and head, and then i'd use my very limited sewing knowledge to very poorly and loosely embroider designs on them. and i like to imagine that the @ symbol is something akin to that level of embroidery, just like. literally a line of string that is not really held down at all outside of the very ends where it enters and exits the sock. i also feel like with this theoretical design the eyes are buttons that are hanging on by a thread - literally - and made of like. hard plastic. the type you'd find in a spare button tin for if your pants need an emergency button
idk if it translates well but the brown "hair" is the heel of the sock
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dreamingalto · 5 months
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I was slightly bored and couldn't decide on what to do... and then I remembered the Hunger Games Simulator existed.
And I have been watching too much Dan and Phil lately...
One thing lead to another and I eventually ended up with the following:
The Phangry Games
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Naming logic went something like this: Hunger to Hungry. Gotta insert the infamous Ph at the beginning. Phangry.
Also yes Pastel Phil is accidentally named Punk Phil I didn't notice the mistake until after I began.
And it turned out 1000% more entertaining than I ever thought it could be.
So right off the bat, we have BIG Dan and Craftie Dan planning their fishing trip while Hiatus Dan is staying in character and fucking right off.
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Then a couple of them are fighting for bags but the bloodbath is staying pretty safe right now.
In fact, there is only 1 death during the bloodbath.
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Thought that meant that Day 1 was going to be a slow start but I SPOKE WAY TOO SOON! First, one of the craftie boys bites the dust to an infection of all things. Apparently HE doesn't provide medical care for infections.
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Interactive Introverts Phil also tried to get rid of the current Phil but he managed to escape. So really, no harm no foul.
Then the Acid Rain started and DAMN DAN AND PHIL (spoiler: especially Dan) CAN NOT SURVIVE ACID RAIN VERY WELL AT ALL!
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The day ended with only 11 survivors. 7 Phils and 4 Dans. PINOFs, Punks, Crafties, and WAD Era have all been completely eliminated!
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At this point, I decide I am rooting for the 2009 boys, Sister Daniel, or COTY and Revival (AKA the Current/2024) Phil. But I was also just immensely amused at how quickly the simulator popped off this time.
The first night was pretty quiet with no deaths or anything occuring. Some of the Phils snuggled up together while Revival Phil snuggled up with 2009 Dan.
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Then almost immediately on Day 2, a group with both the 2009 Boys, COTY Phil, and Sister Daniel actually raid Revival Phil's camp. So 10/10 on the betrayal there 2009 Dan.
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It stays quiet the rest of day 2. AND INTERESTINGLY ENOUGH ON NIGHT 2!
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Phil STOP TRUSTING 2009 DAN HE LITERALLY HELPED RAID YOUR CAMP EARLIER!
But besides the whole trust and betrayal plot with those two, we have both of the hiatus boys deciding that it was time to start the hiatus for everyone else.
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Hiatus Phil going for the more strategic kill as Pastel Phil is only Phil who has a kill up to this point.
Day 3 brings the feast. And just like BIG Dan tripped and died during the acid rain...
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Coming out of the closet apparently involved tripping out of the closet.
The feast also included the continuation of the Hiatus Boys kill streak with them getting rid of half of the remaining Dans.
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I really apperciate Hiatus Dan's commitment to lore accuracy.
This left only 6 tributes for the rest of Day 3.
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Which turned to the final five tributes almost immediately with 2009 Phil finishing off the TATINOF era team.
All that is left in the Final Five is the 2009 Boys, the Hiatus Boys, and Revival Phil.
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Night 3 is pretty quiet. But Day 4 ends up leveling the playing field with Hiatus Phil accidentally eating toxic berries.
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Nothing in particular happens on Night 4 EXCEPT for the fact that 2009 Dan is now snuggling up with Hiatus Dan.
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AND WITH A TASTE OF HIS OWN BETRAYAL MEDICINE FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE GAME, Hiatus Dan tries but fails to eliminate 2009 Dan in the morning of Day 5.
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After the failed attempt to eliminate 2009 Dan, Night 5 is actually pretty quiet. But on Day 6, Hiatus Dan sets his sights on the 2009 team again.
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This brought us to the final three. 2009 Dan and Revival Phil, who both have no kills so far. And Hiatus Dan, who has brought a hiatus to at least three other Dans/Phils.
I don't have that much faith in either 2009 Dan or Revival Phil, but anything can happen in this simulator.
And on Night 6:
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Revival Phil, in a bit of an ironic twist of following lore accuracy, put an end to Hiatus Dan while 2009 Dan actually ended up on fire.
No I am not sorry for that last sentence.
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THIS MAKES PHIL THE WINNER OF THE ENTIRE PHANGRY GAMES!
The simulation turned out a lot more dramatic than I have experienced in the past (with the whole underlying Trust/Betrayal Plotline that ended up emerging with the final three) and was so funny to go through.
Here is a link to the simulator in case this post reminded you this simulator existed and you wanted to try it for yourself.
(The above link should load up the DnP Season as shown in the first image but it might not work after around three months due to the websites saving policy)
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b4kuch1n · 1 year
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hahaha wheee haha
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fatratinatophat · 27 days
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First off, you guys need to stop giving me so many notes on my last post /silly, second of all, here's some SIBLINGS and a shitty Rodger I did as a warmup, not the greatest but meh.
Changed Goob's design a bit more as I came up with some self indulgent headcanons for him (I added a poll to see if anyone cares abt my ideas in the slightest ahem ahem I wanna rant ahem) but I couldn't think of anything to add to Scraps, if anyone has any ideas for me I'd be delighted to hear them and possibly steal from u /silly
I'm glad a lot of people liked my last post- it's surprising the first Dandy's World post I make within a week becomes my top post, I hope this one also gets some love since I spent a lot of time working on the Goobert and his silly sister, I hope you enjoy :]
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